The Russian's Resistant Lover Read online

  Suddenly, she was much more alert. It didn't matter how sexy he was, or how nice he was being now. He was still a manipulative bastard, and a murderer. She wasn't going to let him get away with it.

  Chapter Four

  Valov mentally cursed himself as he led Rae St. Germaine down a narrow ally to the stairs leading to The Hyde, located in the basement of the building. He knew he should have had Tony escort her to the building. It was very dangerous on these streets at night, and even if his name weren’t connected to it, he wouldn't want to see Rae dead. She was a pesky reporter, and he could happily live with never seeing her again, despite her incredibly sexy body, but she hadn't done anything that would make him want her dead.

  He could hardly blame her for wanting a hot story, after all. He was ambitious himself and the background check he had run on her hadn't turned up anything incriminating. No, she should not be out on the streets in danger at night. That had been incredibly careless of him.

  The Hyde had always reminded Valov of a maze. It was dark with loud music and sultry lighting. Dividers were placed around tables and lounge areas to give the illusion of privacy in the crowded club. It was filled with people dancing, talking, making deals that were not necessarily legal, and there was the occasional pair of lovers who were not paying attention to anything but satisfying their own physical pleasure.

  He glanced at Rae, who was absorbing everything with curious, bright eyes. She was smart, that was for sure. He would have to be extra careful about what happened around her to make sure she didn't hear or see anything but what he wanted her to.

  Valov led her to a private room in the back of the club. It was a soundproof room that he often rented out for his own personal use. With the door closed, the music was barely audible. Black leather couches and armchairs surrounded a low, hardwood coffee table in front of a fake fireplace. He gestured to one of the armchairs before sitting down on a couch across from it.

  “Shall I get the waitress?” he asked, already pressing a button on a small remote that alerted the kitchen staff to their presence. “I have heard that the food here is wonderful.”

  “Believe it or not, I don't like chicken,” Rae said, raising an eyebrow. “But I am sure you will want your vodka, and if they have hot tea, I would love some.”

  “I don't drink vodka,” Valov answered coldly. “I guess neither one of us fill our stereotypes.”

  He smirked as he saw her uncomfortable expression. Any chance he had, he was going to remind her that he was a human too, and not simply a subject she was interviewing. Even though Rae's byline had been appearing more and more as the newspaper laid off writers, her main column was criminal profiles.

  Often she would interview criminals and write articles about them. Even before she had approached him, Valov had known her name. He had admired her way of pointing out humanizing traits in criminals while censuring them for their crimes at the same time. His goal was to keep her from seeing his criminal side at all costs. Or at least keeping her from reporting about it.

  A young blonde waitress came in, smiling politely at Valov. “Hello,” she said. “What can I get for you?”

  “Get me a Scotch please, and a pot of tea for my friend. Thank you.”

  The woman nodded and left.

  “Scotch, huh? That's your drink of choice?” Rae raised an eyebrow at him.

  Valov shrugged. “There is no alcohol in this country that tastes good, but I do enjoy Scotch. I picked up a liking to it when I was in Scotland.” Valov flexed his knuckles. “Bareknuckle boxing.”

  “I see,” Rae said, furrowing her brow. She unzipped her gigantic purse and pulled out a small, spiral-bound notebook and blue fountain pen.

  “Pen and paper?” Valov grinned. “Is this the nineteenth-century, then? Are you going to type this up on a typewriter when you are dropped off at your house by a horse-drawn carriage?”

  “There's nothing wrong with liking the feel of a fountain pen,” Rae said. “It's just like you apparently like the feel of smashing someone's face in a boxing ring.”

  Valov’s smile disappeared. “It's actually the winning part I like,” he said. “And having money to donate.”

  The waitress approached to give Valov his Scotch and Rae her pot of tea. Rae sipped it slightly, watching Valov in a way that made him feel exposed and vulnerable. It was as if she could tell everything about him in just one look as she sipped her steaming hot tea, never breaking eye contact.

  Valov hated it.

  The last thing he wanted was for someone to know all of his secrets. The only people who knew all of them were his brothers, and that was only because they had the same childhood he had. He took a gulp of Scotch. “Your thirty minutes have started,” he growled.

  “You said you support charities,” Rae said. “Care to expand on that?”

  “I do what I can to give back when this world has given me so much,” he said. “I started giving my boxing winnings to help orphanages in Scotland after I had enough money to live off of, and now I support a variety of nonprofits that-”

  “Like what?” Rae interrupted, disbelief in her voice.

  “Well, I'm sponsoring a football league for kids in low-income parts of Maine. This league helps them keep out of trouble and gives them a safe place to enjoy themselves before they go home at night. I also donate a large portion of my income to battered women's shelters, homeless veterans, and a few other charities. Those are my... pet causes if you will.”

  “Why those causes?” Rae asked.

  “Why not those causes?” Valov retorted. He took another sip of Scotch. “Tell me, Rae St. Germaine. Why did you decide to get into criminal profiling journalism? It seems like very dangerous work for incredibly low reward.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “Who's interviewing who, here?”

  “I need to know that what I tell you is in good hands,” he said. “And I don't know enough to trust you.” He already knew he could trust her with certain information, though. Her articles and background check results had made her integrity very evident but he was still curious about her. Valov didn't know why, but she intrigued him. He wanted to know why she made the decisions she did, and how she had managed to leave a town as wretched as Nokomis relatively unscathed.

  Rae sighed and shut her notebook before taking another sip of tea. “I grew up in a town that sees things in black and white,” she said. “Both literally and figuratively. However, I think that just about everything is in the gray area, and I wanted to help the world see it that way, too. I don't want people to be villainized because of acts of desperation, or because of their income level, nor do I want people idolized because of their own actions and lifestyles. Everyone has flaws, but also everyone has some good inside of them. I want the rest of the world to see that too.”

  Valov mused over her words. It would definitely be interesting if she really believed them but they had a much-rehearsed quality to them. He wasn't the first person she had said that to, and he didn't like that. He wanted to catch her off-guard and make her feel as vulnerable as she made him feel. He sighed and drank the rest of his Scotch. He waited until she took a sip of her tea and then asked, “Are you a virgin, Rae?”

  She choked on her tea. “Excuse me?”

  He felt a pang of guilt for asking such a personal question, but he quickly brushed it aside. He needed her to know that he affected her as much as she affected him. “Have you ever made love to a man?” he asked. “You definitely don't seem that experienced. My guess is you've been with two men at most.”

  That amusing look of indignance was back. “That is none of your business, Mr. Tonov,” she said hotly. “And unless you want to share all of the details about what goes on in your bedroom, then you'll let that question go.”

  “I'll happily share all of those details,” Valov said, barely able to keep back a grin. “On the record, too, even though I'm not sure your boss would allow you to print such information. It's not exactly appropriate for all audiences.”


  Heat sprang into her eyes and her lips parted slightly as her pupils dilated. He looked down at her shaking hands and her long, smooth legs that fidgeted under his stare. She wanted to know very badly, what happened behind his bedroom door.

  He smirked at her, satisfied. “Of course, why tell you, when I can simply show you.” he said. “Anytime you want. It will have to be a complete day to show you everything though, and you'll have to be well-rested beforehand to really enjoy it, but I know you will be very satisfied with what you learn.”

  Suddenly the look of indignation was gone, and realization blossomed in Rae's eyes. “Of course,” she said. “I should have known. I made you uncomfortable, didn't I?” she grinned. “Why does talking about your charity work make you uncomfortable?”

  He swore under his breath and looked down at the floor. Valov didn't know what bothered him more, the fact that he couldn't distract her, or the fact that she didn't look in the least bit tempted by his invitation. He knew women who would kill for such an offer and she wasn't in the least bit interested.

  He thought she might be as attracted to him as he was to her. Even if he could affect her for a brief moment, it was nothing to the affect she had on him. Her eyes, her lips, and her body were all driving him to madness, even in those conservative clothes. “I have no problem talking about my charities,” he growled. “If I remember correctly, I am the one who brought them up.”

  “No, it's your pet charities you don't like talking about,” Rae said. “Why are those causes so close to your heart?”

  “Because I believe they are worthy causes,” Valov said, suddenly wishing she wasn't so smart, or so curious. “America is supposed to be about helping the poor and unfortunate souls, so I should do my part in making that philosophy a reality.”

  “Interesting, but I believe you're thinking about Ursula's scam in The Little Mermaid,” Rae said. She wrote a few more notes in her notebook. “By the way, I'm not.”

  “What?” he asked.

  She glanced up and then looked back down. “A virgin,” she said.

  “But you're single right now,” Valov said, happy for the change of topic.

  “How would you know that?” she asked, arching an eyebrow. Damn, even the simplest motions from her were sexy.

  “I can tell,” Valov said. He decided it was best that she not know that he had people look in on her social media history and find out that she was single but had a serious boyfriend about ten months ago.

  “Uh huh,” Rae said skeptically. “Or you did a background check on the only reporter you let talk to you ever.”

  He shrugged. “I read your column. I already know you have integrity. What else would I need to know?”

  “My virginal status, apparently,” Rae replied. “Scotland. Why bareknuckle boxing?”

  “I wanted to see the world,” Valov said. “Or at least get out of Russia. I grew up in a small town, and I wanted to explore, so I went to Scotland. I needed to provide my own money, so I joined a bareknuckle boxing ring that had a small cash prize. I won it easily, and was able to get a trainer. I was good at it and able to make enough to stay alive and have a little extra. That's really it. I am afraid that is not much of a story.”

  “Why Scotland?” she asked.

  “Why not Scotland?” he retorted. “I thought about going to China, but I really wanted to explore land outside of Asia. I was too scared to think about going to Africa, and I have always been interested in seeing the beautiful sights in Scotland.”

  “Why were you scared about going to Africa?” Rae asked.

  “Because of what I had been hearing in the news my entire life,” Valov said. “I was only nineteen. I didn't want my first time out of Russia to be in a place where there was lots of violence. Besides, I learned English in school, so I wanted to go to a place where they spoke English.”

  Rae nodded, making a few more notes. Valov realized that she was writing in shorthand and just as fast as if she was typing them. “Why did you come to America? Especially a town as small as Bangor, Maine?”

  “I was curious about this country. It is supposed to be the greatest place for making your fortune through hard work and I wanted to know if it was true.”

  “And do you think it is?” Rae asked.

  Valov thought about that question. A lot of what he had seen seemed to prove the idea false. But there were some who seemed to know the value of hard work, saving, and helping others. Ironically, he saw that among the poorer income places more than in the middle class. “There is definitely the potential for that in this country,” he said finally. “And many of the citizens take advantage of that potential.”

  “So why Bangor?” she asked. “Why not Boston or New York?”

  “I detest big cities,” he said bluntly. “They are filthy, even the places that are pretending they are not filthy. Here, the air is clean but I am connected enough to the rest of the world. Also, this is the first stop in the country, or so I am told.”

  “Only for the military,” Rae said. “Bangor International Airport hasn't had a commercial international flight in years.”

  “Not commercial, no. But since I have a private jet that is no matter to me.”

  Only the slight raising of the eyebrow showed Rae's surprise.

  Valov smiled. “That is another reason for coming here. Maine is number forty-nine out of fifty states in being job-friendly. I like trying to improve local economies.”

  “I see,” Rae said. “How very generous of you.”

  “This is not generosity so much as ambition. I always enjoy a good challenge.” He looked at her intently and was satisfied to see a blush rise on her face as she got other implications of what he was saying. He definitely did love a good challenge. And Rae St. Germaine was definitely a challenge.

  There was a knock on the door and the waitress came in warily. “Mr. Tonov?” she said, shyly. “There is a call for you.”

  Valov tried to hide his irritation. “I do not want to speak to anyone.”

  The woman glanced at Rae and then said, “It's your brother.”

  He grimaced and gestured his assent. The woman produced a cordless landline phone. “Yes?” he said impatiently.

  “Val,” his brother Nickolay said. “There's a bit of a situation. I need you to come home now.”

  “Can't you figure it out yourself?” he snarled.

  “This situation needs a... leading hand, if you will.”

  “Fine. I'll be there soon.” He hung up and gave the phone back to the waitress who quickly scurried away. He smiled pleasantly at Rae. “I am afraid I will have to cut this interview short,” he said. “There's been a family emergency.”

  “I am sorry to hear that,” Rae said. “Before you leave, may I ask you how, exactly, you make your income?”

  “Is this question on the record or off the record?” Valov asked.

  “How about you give the on the record answer first, then the off the record one,” Rae said. “Just to satisfy my own curiosity.”

  Valov nodded. His brother was going to have to wait a few more seconds, which was fine with him. Most likely one of the lackeys was threatening to snitch or someone was trying to become competition to them.

  “On the record,” he said, “my brothers and I get our money from stocks and bonds after doing heavy research on the market so we wouldn't have to go through a broker. We also back startup companies in exchange for royalties and percentages of the annual profits. Naturally, some of our money also comes from inheritances, although not particularly big ones. All together, we have about the same money as an average upper middle class family. We only seem rich because we know how to live within our means.”

  “And off the record?” Rae asked.

  Valov paused. Off the record or not, if he worded his response wrong, it would color her entire article. “Ms. St. Germaine,” he said, “I was not the first one to invent crime. It's always been a part of human society and it puts a drain on the honest society around
here. You should know. America is number one in incarcerated citizens per capita and those prisons are paid by taxpayer dollars that could go to funding schools or better health care. What my brothers and I do is profit from the dishonest society, and we put that money back into the honest society as much as we can.”

  Valov played with a ring on his index finger, then continued. “We keep the crime under control. Even though our income means might be a little more alternative than the authorities would like, what we do benefits those who are honest workers much more than those who get their funds through different means. Are there any more questions?”

  Her eyes traveled from his face down to the rest of his body and Valov immediately felt himself grow hard. It took him a second to realize that she was only staring at the sleeves to his black suit jacket. “Only one more,” she said. “Why are you wearing long sleeves?”

  “It's cold in here,” he said simply, even though it was seventy degrees.

  Rae could tell he was lying but she also knew she wasn't going to be getting another answer from him. She held out her hand. “It was nice to meet you, Mr. Tonov,” she said. “Thank you for this interview.”

  He took her hand and held it a little longer than necessary, taking great pleasure in the heat that blossomed in her expression when he did so. “It was definitely my pleasure, Ms. St. Germaine. I hope you have a lovely evening.”

  “And I hope your emergency is not really an emergency.”

  “You should come to one of the charity football games I sponsor,” Valov said. “The next one is this weekend at Cameron Stadium. It might help you on your article.”

  “I'm sure it could. If my schedule is free then I'll come down.” She smiled again and left. Valov watched her go, smiling slightly at her swaying hips and giving her a head start before walking out himself.

  Chapter Five

  Rae didn't sleep that night. All she could think about was the look in his eyes as he saved her from those men, and how he looked when she asked about his charities.